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ziskandra · 7 years

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so @aceryder was one of the recipients of my 100 follower fic giveaway and requested: ryder x liam where the two of them meet at in a bar in london before the arks leave for the milky way and really hit it off together. ao3 link. and, well, here’s the story :~) Summary: Two weeks before the arks leave for Andromeda, Liv Ryder meets a handsome man named Liam at the bar. Too bad they’ll never see each other again. Near Morning

Olivia will never get used to the feeling of solid ground under her boots. She’s a spacer, through-and-through. Before Mom had taken her final turn for the worst and she and her brother and her dad had all relocated to Earth, she doesn’t recall a time when she’d ever spent more than three months planet-side at a time. Now, it’s going on six, Mom’s dead, and the final preparations for the Andromeda Initiative have been set. Two more weeks, and it’s bye-bye Milky Way, hello, new home.

She can’t lie to herself, though. She knows they’re really just running away from something. Might even be the same thing, in the end.

Dad had spent so much time working on his pet project — his SAM —and for what? Nothing but bitter disappointment, which tasted suspiciously like the crumbly little sandwiches they’d served at Mom’s wake.

Oscar — well, her brother hadn’t changed much. He’d always been the type to get swept up in the events around him. Had signed up for the Alliance more out of a lack of anything else to do, rather than genuine passion, and when he’d found his progression blocked by bad blood, well. Who could blame him for wanting to go somewhere, be somewhere, where he could do something that mattered?

And for Liv herself? Well, Mom’s dead, and she’s the one keeping this family together in her stead. She likes her life in this galaxy well enough, honestly, but she can’t just let her dad and her brother fuck off without her, so.

New home. It’s a hell of a move. Anything’s got to be better than being stuck in London indefinitely though; the sky just keeps pissing on her, and the pollution’s so bad it hurts to breathe.

Good bars, though. Men that are attractive enough to flirt with, if not more. But she usually just goes to drink. Starts off with lager before working her way up to whiskey. Serving in the Alliance has taught her how to handle her alcohol.

Tonight she’s checking out some new fancy place with one of her old Alliance squadmates who happens to be on shore leave. It’s going to be full of posh wankers, she’s sure; they make their drinks with off-world ice, of course it is. Liv’s shouting — she’s been keeping mum about what’s actually happening in the next few weeks, but she’s reassured Ellie that she won’t need the money where she’s going. Laughs when she tells her, because it’s such a goddamn understatement.

***

The bar is dark and the drinks are overrated, but all-in-all, it lives up to Olivia’s expectations. The music’s not exactly her scene, but it’s danceable enough, and it’s not like Ellie has ever let anything like appropriateness get in the way of having a good time. To put it simply: Eleanor Rodrigues is the kind of friend you want to have when you just want to keep your mind off things, and after everything Liv’s been through lately? Ellie is probably, quite honestly, one of her best friends. They’d bonded over their passion for Prothean technology, but where Liv’s love of science is secondary to her love of being able to shoot a target from several hundred meters with pinpoint precision, Ellie is a scientist first and a scant five-foot-tall surprisingly scary biotic second.

Mostly, though, she’s just a terrifying and ferocious dancer and it often gets her into trouble. She’s flailing her arms on the edge of the dance floor just adjacent to the main path to the bar when her elbow connects heavily with someone’s ribcage, spilling one of the too-expensive drinks over the both of them. “Oh, fuck, fuck, I’m so sorry!” Ellie exclaims with drunken exuberance, clasping a hand to her mouth, the other reaching for the accosted man’s wrist. “My friend Livvy here – she’ll get you another drink.”

So, okay, two things:

One: Eleanor has had way too much to drink if she thinks she can get away with calling her Livvy.

Two: The man looks at her, smiles, and fuck it if she doesn’t go weak at the knees. Dark skin, beautiful hair, and he fills out a polo shirt like nobody’s business. God damn. But those are only distant observations. That smile could light a room on fire, but what gets her is the eyes. Brown, open, inviting, honest. Seemingly incapable of giving a shit about the fact that he’s now covered in fruity cocktail residue.

The man cants his head. “Does Livvy mind buying me a drink?”

She groans, but doesn’t correct him. The first stunningly attractive man she’s laid eyes on in the past month? Can call her whatever the hell he wants. “Please,” she basically insists, “allow me.” Her voice is low and awkwardly husky to her own ears. So, yeah. She’s a bit buzzed. Sue her.

***

They’re sitting at the bar, stools too close to each other, knees touching. Liv’s keeping one eye out on Ellie, who’s gone back to sharing her chaotic dancing with the world. “Should we be worried about her?” the man asks, following her gaze to her friend’s flailing elbows and knees.

“She’ll be fine,” Liv answers over the rim of her own drink. “Probably.” Which explains why she’s still watching out for her.

The man shakes his head, and laughs. It’s the kind of laugh that warms her from the inside out. Deep and rich, genuinely amused. She wants to make him laugh again. “She’s terrible,” he starts, and when Liv’s brows knit as though to glare at him, he hastily adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Why’s that?” she asks, heart thrumming erratically in her chest. They’ve almost finished the drink she’d owed him, the pleasantry. She hopes he’ll let her by him another.

“Because I wouldn’t have met you,” he answers, corner of his mouth curling into a smile as he finishes off the remainder of his drink in one long gulp.

It’s a level of smooth Liv can only hope to aspire to. She rolls her eyes, but can’t quite keep her own smile off her face as she drains her own cup. “You hardly even know me,” she complains.

“Yet,” he adds, and Liv feels the warmth in her skin rise to her face.

***

Olivia learns over the course of their next drink or two that the handsome man’s name is Liam and that he’s finishing up his work in a crisis-response unit before moving onto a new top-secret hush-hush mission. She could pry, because she has half a mind that he’s joking, what with the twinkle in his eye and all, but instead she tells him that she understands, because she’s basically in the same position herself.

“Alliance?” he asks, gaze roving over the muscles in her arms that her tight-fitting jacket does nothing to disguise. Some men, she knows, are intimidated by her. Not Liam.

“Not anymore,” she answers, and she can’t quite keep the pang of sadness that comes with the clarification out of her voice.

He reaches across the counter to place a reassuring hand upon her forearm. “But from what you’ve said, you’re moving onto bigger and better things.”

“Yeah,” she answers, feeling her throat seize up the way if often does when she’s vulnerable and thinks about Andromeda for too long. “That’s one way of putting it.” She cants her head, tries to dislodge the buzzing feeling she’s starting to get in the very centre of her skull. “I get the feeling you’re not usually one for us military types.”

Liam’s hand skims down her arm until his fingers are resting upon hers. “Not usually,” he murmurs in easy agreement.

Something twists deep inside her gut. Can’t quite stop herself from asking, “Then why me?” She’s staring at him more intently than she probably should, and he shuffles back in his chair slightly in response, but still doesn’t remove his hand.

With a deep, whittling exhale, he answers, “You’re easy to talk to,” he says, running a thumb along her skin. “And I like that. But I can’t promise anything long-term. Serious. You know what I mean.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Not usually why I go about trying to pick up strange men in bars, Liam.”

“I know, I know—" he starts, almost defensively, before interrupting up himself. “Hold up. You’re trying to pick me up?”

Their eyes meet, and she swears to God that she can almost feel the electricity spark between them. Oscar had complained to her on occasion about the thrum of static he feels when he passes another trained biotic. She wonders if it feels anything like this.

Liam’s gaze flickers down to her lips, then back up to her eyes. As she leans in to kiss him, she realises the answer is yes.

***

She’d made sure that Ellie was safe and had a way back to her hotel before leaving the bar. Ellie had mostly been preoccupied anyway but it never hurt to check. ‘You know where to find me if you need me’ Liv had told her with a tap of her omintool, but Ellie had waved her off. Her parting words had been, “Go get ‘em, corporal!” and Liv hadn’t had the heart to correct her.

She also taps out a quick message to Oscar, just in case.

Liv: Probably not home tonight. Don’t wait up. :) ;)

His response is almost instantaneous.

Oscar: those emoticons add more info than i care to know about

Oscar: but GOOD i’m glad. be safe!!

“Who are you messaging?” Liam asks as they huddle under his umbrella together. He’d brought an umbrella to a bar. She likes a man who comes prepared.

“My brother,” she says, and at the look he gives her, she quickly adds, “younger brother. Just letting him know that I won’t be home.” And damn if her face still doesn’t flush at the implications of that sentence. It’s been way too long since she’s last done this, she’s super out of practice.

“I’m not keeping you away from any babysitting duties, am I?” Liam asks in a tone of mostly mock concern. She finds it extremely endearing, the fact that if she told him he was, he’d probably insist on marching her all the way home.

“No, God, no,” she laughs. “He’s twenty-two. A big boy.”

Liam shoots her a skeptical look. “And how old are you? Am I allowed to ask that?”

She swats playfully at his arm. “Ass. Okay. I’m twenty-two, too.” She laughs. English is a funny language. “We’re twins,” she clarifies.

“Because you couldn’t just say that before,” Liam gripes.

“I’m enjoying keeping you on your toes,” she breathes, and he looks down at her, grins, and before she knows it, she’s the one that’s standing on her toes to lean up and kiss him. The umbrella gets knocked out of alignment, Liam’s hair and shirt get drenched and so do her hands, where they’re clinging onto him in those exact same places as though her life depends on it.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he complains when they break apart for air. “I mean, literally, I’m going to get hypothermia and die and the worst part is, I think I’m going to enjoy it.”

She can’t hide the grin that spreads across her face, and she almost just wants to grab him by the cheeks and kiss him again, so instead she shoves her hands down in her pockets so to avoid any temptation to touch and touch and touch.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me coming over?” she asks, hating how uncertain her voice sounds, but— if she has to face rejection, she’d rather now than later.

“I was going to ask you the same thing. But in reverse,” he chuckles. “I warned you: I’m staying with my parents. In my room from when I was a teenager.”

“You have your own room,” she points out, trying not to think too hard about the tiny bedroom she shares with Oscar, two mattresses on the floor, belongings strewn about. She probably could make him sleep in the lounge, but a) she would never live it down, and b) it’s three-quarters filled with decomposing flowers none of them had had the heart to dispose of. And if Dad notices… well, he’s bound to have questions. Better to avoid that mess altogether.

“With a single bed,” he reminds her, but she doesn’t really have it in her heart to care. It’s just one night. It’ll be cozy. And she’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t looking forward to them shedding their clothes and getting hot and heavy underneath his covers.

“Still better than what I have,” she grumbles, and he shakes his head.

“It’s fine. I could tell you’re not from around here.”

“Did the accent give me away?” she asks, suddenly self-conscious of the low, flat vowels of her Citadel upbringing.

“Something like that,” he answers, and she finds herself wanting to kiss the corner of his eyes, where the skin crinkles when he smiles.

***

They creep up the stairs towards Liam’s childhood bedroom; it makes Liv feel like a teenager again but it’s kind of exciting. He flicks the light on once he opens the door for her and — okay, he’d warned her, but she finds herself holding back a laugh because it reminds her so much of Oscar’s old room when they’d lived on the Citadel.

Liam holds his hands up defensively as he guides her to the bed. It squeaks underneath her weight when she sits upon it. “Hey, I warned you.”

“I love the Star Wars posters,” she adds, leaning her head back to get a better look. “Always nice to see someone who appreciates the classics.”

He chuckles as he sits down next to her, a hand resting high upon her thigh. “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he says. Heat pools low in her belly, and she becomes acutely aware of just how much she wants him. “Can I get you anything? A drink?” he asks, fingers distractingly running towards the inside of her leg.

“I’ve had enough,” she answers; she’d sobered quite significantly on their walk and finds herself wanting to do this sober.

She can’t help but think that Liam looks relieved. “Same,” he breathes, before leaning in to kiss her, hand now firmly pressed up between her legs where she’d been begging to be touched; her hips roll automatically, seeking friction.

She can’t believe how much she’s needed this. To just simply be as she is with someone who knows her as just Olivia without Ryder following her like a curse. She wants to be swallowed up by him, if he’d allow it, and just forget.

***

They’re recruiting the wrong men into the Alliance, she thinks to herself as Liam peels off her jeans and kisses a path up her legs from her knees, gaze never leaving their intended destination.

How the hell did she get to be this lucky, she wonders as he kisses the smatter of freckles on her skin along the way and makes up nonsense names for them, constellations she’s never heard of.

His stubble tickles her thighs as he buries his head between her legs and works her with her mouth for what feels like hours. Kisses her after she comes and she doesn’t even mind it, just runs her fingers through his tight tight curls and kisses back, tastes herself on his lips.

It’s only at her insistence that he allows her to return the favour.

***

The single bed is cozy. The truth of the matter is that neither of them are small people. She’s having to indulge in a bit more after-the-fact cuddling than she would like, but in all honesty? It’s not that bad. Good, even. They’re still both naked and vulnerable and just talking still, with voices that get more heavily laced with sleep as the hour nears morning.

It’s the vulnerability that gets her when Liam asks, soft and quiet and gentle, “You never told me why you came to London.”

She could wave him off with a vague answer about family obligations, and she he knows he wouldn’t pry further. But the grief is still raw and fresh and still sitting there just under her ribcage, no matter how much she tries to distract herself with attractive men with smiles she could die for.

“Mom grew up here,” she starts and when she senses Liam about to ask for more information, she adds hastily, with less finesse than she’d hoped for, “she died. Not too long ago.”

He inhales sharply, his arms tightening around her. “I’m sorry,” he tells her, and there’s something in his voice that almost undoes her, she can feel her lower lip tremble as she does her best to fight off the tears that finally threaten to fall at last. Oscar had always been a crier. But not Olivia.

“It is what she is,” she says, mostly for her own benefit than Liam’s. “She’d been sick for a while. I just hope that if she’s… I don’t know, looking down on me or whatever, that she’d be proud of me. Us. Of what I’m about to do.” Mom is dead and gone and although she never put the burden of caring for the family on Liv’s shoulders, Olivia carries it anyway. Someone must. Dad’s a mess, and Oscar’s… Oscar.

“It sounds like you’re going to do amazing things,” Liam says, so sincere she almost believes it.

She knows what the churning in her gut is now. It’s fear. It’s relieving to actually have a name for it. “I’m scared,” she admits, burying her head further into the crook of his shoulder. Remembers Liam’s own top-secret mission, reaches out for a thread of common connection. “Aren’t you?”

“Not really,” he answers, shrugging as best he can with her head against his chest.

She lifts her chin to look at him in wonder. “How do you do it?” she asks.

He presses two fingers to where his heart beats against his check. “I have hope that the future’s better than what I’m leaving behind.” He’s so earnest, so sincere, that Liv finally allows herself to cry.

“I am so depressing,” she manages to blurt out between sobs. It hurts to breathe. Her head hurts. Her throat hurts. But most of all, her heart hurts, buried under the weight of everything that was and everything that can’t be.

“You’re not,” Liam assures her, soothing his hands down over her back. “And for what it’s worth? My mum would love you.” She starts to cry harder, then, really cry, face scrunched up and ugly. “And that was not the right thing to say,” he amends.

She wants to laugh, because this entire night has been hugging the border between amazing and absurd and tragic ever since the very beginning. “Yeah. I mean. You still hardly know me. But,” she continues, wiping at her eyes with her wrist, “I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Sometimes the words come out the wrong way,” Liam explains, continuing to rub soothing circles against her skin, “Most of the time, actually. But … you knew what I wanted to say. That’s what matters. Means a lot, really.”

He continues to hold her until she falls asleep.

***

When she wakes up in the morning she’s not too surprised to find herself alone in the bed. Thinks she can hear pots and pans banging in the kitchen if she strains herself to hear it. Not sure if she’s ready to deal with the implications of that yet, she instead busies herself with gathering her garments so casually discarded the night before, slowly redressing herself in her crumpled clothing.

It doesn’t buy her enough time. She wants to sneak out the window or whatever, but can’t quite bring herself to do so. It’s when she’s almost done making Liam’s bed with military precision that the door creaks open and the man himself is standing in the entranceway. “I cooked bacon,” he says, because of course he fucking did.

She knows she said she wouldn’t stay, but she is surely tempted. Besides, she can smell their breakfast now because Liam’s brought it up to his room. He takes a few quiet steps towards her, sets down her plate on the dresser. “Wasn’t sure how you liked your eggs. Figured I couldn’t go wrong with sunny-side up.”

“You didn’t,” she answers, smile soft as she reaches for the cutlery he offers her. “My favourite.” She should be more fussed that she’s so predictable, but in this moment? She hardly cares.

“I already had mine,” Liam explains as Liv begins to eat, chewing thoughtfully upon the eggs and bacon and toast impaled on the tines of the fork. With a wince, he adds, “Mum’s home, but don’t worry. I’ll sneak you out, sight unseen.”

She almost chokes on her food. Instead, she playfully bumps him with her shoulder. “Had a lot of practice?” she asks.

He has the decency to look abashed, rubs at the back of his head with one hand. “Something like that,” he mutters.

Liv waves at her quickly vanishing breakfast with one hand. “Well, if it’s what taught you to do all this, I’m not complaining.”

“I’m glad,” Liam confesses, and they sit together on the bed, knees touching, until Olivia finishes eating.

***

True to his word, Liam manages to bundle Liv out the door without incident, but it’s a very near thing. Her face is burning as she recalls just how close she’d tiptoed to a meet-the-parents scenario that she doesn’t want to deal with right now. Liam’s mom’s voice rings in her ears even though she’d only heard it through the walls: ’Are you going to introduce me to your friend?’ She’d mouthed a mortified no in his direction, and Liam had only chuckled, calling out a cheeky ‘No!’ to his mother in agreement.

“In another life, perhaps,” he says, arm still wrapped around her as they say goodbye on the corner of the street. Cold air nips at Olivia’s cheeks as she smiles up at him. “But, it is what it is. We’re both moving onto other things. Bigger. Better. Brighter.“

"Yeah,” she agrees, no longer wanting to push the point. "I’m sorry things couldn’t be different.“ She finds herself scuffing the toes of her boots against the concrete of the footpath, looking down. She doesn’t want this – whatever this is – to end. "I would’ve liked to get to know you better.”

“Likewise,” Liam answers, looking at her with those big brown earnest eyes of his; she meets his gaze and he runs a thumb along her jawline. Before she knows it, their mouths are crashing together once more. It’s the longest kiss goodbye she’s ever received.

When they break apart, she holds his face mere inches from hers, runs her fingers over the stubble she finds there. “Don’t miss me too much,” she warns.

“I’ll try not to,” he promises.

“Best of luck with everything.”

“You too.”

They break apart, and Liv does her best to disguise the lump in her throat. She takes one, two, three awkward steps away as Liam does the same, and then she looks back and does a little wave. “See you later,” she says in farewell, even though she won’t. It’s just pleasantry, really. Isn’t that how this had started? Now it’s time to go home, so she can continue to get prepared for the new home. The new home she’s growing less and less certain that she actually wants.

“Goodbye, Olivia,” Liam whispers to her retreating back.

***

634 Years Later

Liv is the first of the twins to awaken when the Hyperion arrives in Andromeda, her shuddering gasp full of wonder. They really made it. So much for her lack of faith. Doctors surround her. They’re going to unfreeze Oscar next.

That’s when she looks across the bay and sees and recognises the man enthusiastically waving across the room at her. Holy shit. It can’t be, but it is. “Liam?” She gapes, unable to disguise the way he makes her heart stutter just by goddamn looking at her. At least he looks just as giddy to be seeing her. One of the docs makes a small noise of concern in the back of her throat. Her vitals are probably spiking.

"You two know each other?” she asks.

“In a manner of speaking,” she answers, barely able to hear her own voice over the roar of her blood in her veins.

In another life, he’d said, and she’d wished for the chance to get to know him better.

Luckily for them, it's their very first day in a brand new galaxy.

#liam kosta #ryder #rydam #mass effect #mass effect andromeda #me:a spoilers #asha fic

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